For,
after all, the only really tangible thing we possess is man's Will; and
let the presence and action of that be withdrawn but for a few moments,
and that mysterious Something which we vainly endeavor to push off into
the Void by our pompous nothings of brick and plaster and stone closes
down upon us with the descending sky, writing _Delendum_ on all behind
us, _Unknown_ on all before. At that time, the only actual Now, that
stands between these two infinite blanks, becomes identical with the
mind itself, independent of accidents of situation or circumstance; and
the mind thus becoming boldly prominent, amidst the fading away of
physical things, stamps its own character upon its shadowy
surroundings, moulding the supple universe to the shape of its emotions
and feelings.
I was the only inside passenger, and there was nothing to check the
entire surrender of my mind to all ghostly influence. So I lay
stretched upon the cushions, staring blankly into the dense gray fog
closing up all trace of our travelled road, or watching the light edges
of the trailing mist curl coyly around the roofs of houses and then
settle grimly all over them, the fantastic shapes of trees or carts
distorted and magnified through the mist, the lofty outlines of some
darker cloud stalking solemnly here and there, like enormous dumb
overseers faithfully superintending the work of annihilation.
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